As Warm As A Herd Of Boswells
by slenderpanda597
Summary: Christmas is coming, and the whole herd of Boswells are out for something. Luckily, nobody can pull the wool over Martina's eyes.


(a/n – "No one can pull the wool over these eyes" – Martina, Series 5 [according to the DVD box set]. "Oh, but they can, Martina" – Sev, September 2015 [after watching the DVD box set]. Merry Christmas, and stay warm, Bread fans. Especially Rose, who I dedicate this giftfic to.)

As Warm As A Herd Of Boswells

The front door lock clicks, and Martina knows he's home. She briefly looks up from her sewing to acknowledge that it is, in fact, Joey Boswell that has walked through their front door, and not the Police or a drunken lout or a rapist or some other horror. Throughout her life, what with her wayward brother and all of his escapades during her late teenage years and early twenties, Martina has had too many unwanted visitors, and some of them have been less pleasant than others. When she sees the familiar blond hairstyle make its way around the doorframe, she goes back to her embroidery. Trust Adrian to pick the most outlandish names for his children. Did he realise how difficult it was to embroider the name Majella onto a pink sleepsuit without messing up the stitches? She's currently on the mash of long and loopy letters in the middle, and has unpicked her stitches several times over the course of the evening since getting back from work. She will finish it though, as then she only has a couple more presents to sort out. The flowers to go with the new tea service for Nellie will need to be collected nearer to the big day, and she doesn't know if by Christmas day Connie will have a boy, a girl or a bump, so Martina is waiting to see if a birth happens before she gets any of the newborn baby's first Christmas claptrap which Joey keeps fawning over in the shops they go in. Which reminds her that she has to collect his present at some point. She's bought it, so she doesn't need to worry about that. It is getting it home that's the issue. Joey Boswell is like a child when it comes to Christmas, and there is nowhere safe in the house for her to hide his gifts without him routing through and finding it then bragging about what material possession he will have extra after Christmas Day. So his present is currently in her locker at work, safely behind the counter where he can't get his hands on it, and where he doesn't know it is. So for now, she's got to finish stitching her niece's name onto the sleepsuit for children. Majella. She rolls her eyes. Honestly, what sort of a name is that? She knows, of course, having made the mistake of voicing her wonder at such a name back in October when the baby was born. October 16th to be precise, which just so happens to be the Feast of St Gerard Majella, the patron saint of childbirth and motherhood. So of course that was the name the daughter got when Irenee had finished screaming from the maternity ward (which Joey dragged her along to sit outside because it was 'an important occasion for the fam-il-y'). Connie will be giving birth imminently, she's due pretty soon. Trust Billy, when he finally settles down and has another child with another woman, to fail to even plan what's going to happen. A due date that close to Christmas. What a fool. As long as they call the child something sensible, she thinks, she won't moan. Like Gabrielle. Or Ronald. They'd be much easier to embroider onto a sleepsuit.

Joey kisses her neck, and Martina angles it slightly so that he can press his lips further down. The embroidery is driving her insane, and she's had a rough day at work to boot, the most enlightening part being when she gave Adrian a sound grilling regarding his claims for a child's art set. He had it coming, calling his child Majella. Joey nuzzles her neck, and Martina puts the embroidery down, as she knows she's unlikely to get anymore done now he's home and, it would appear, in a good mood. He comes around the side of the sofa and clambers next to her, pushing her against the velour (she refused to let him have a leather suite) and kissing her. She plays with the opening of his shirt, and responds to his lip actions. The phone rings and Joey climbs off her, leaping to answer it in one swift leap. She sits back up and smooths her hair down, waiting for him to finish. From the sounds of the conversation, it is one of his brothers on the phone, most likely Adrian or Billy, since Jack isn't usually one for phoning them up, unless he needs Joey's opinion on some possibly antique furniture which he's collected. She lets him do this, and she knows he's grateful for it. His family is his world, and she wouldn't begrudge him from speaking to them, ever. She knows all too well what it is like to have a family who don't speak with one another, who don't care about one another. Joey spent far too long being nervous about phone calls and visits to his Mam when he first started properly dating Martina, his previous relationship with Roxy having convinced him that he was wrong to love anyone but her. Martina stretches lazily, and as he turns around to face her, he is grinning like he's just found out a piece of tasty gossip. She knows that grin all too well, and she can feel herself beginning to smile.

"Our Adrian was just telling me that no one pulls the wool over your eyes," he smirks, advancing towards her. Her smirk is better than his; she's had longer to perfect it.

"Oh, but no one can, Mister Boswell. I see through everything, scanning for the legal loopholes which will one day lead to the demise of scroungers like you." Joey leans closer to her.

"Oh, but sweetheart, you'll never make me fall, for I am the infallible Joey Boswell!" He fling his arms wide, and she takes her opportunity, throwing herself towards his chest and knocking him backwards onto the sofa. She's in control now, and leaning down over him she grins evilly.

"One day, Mister Boswell, one day…"

Connie gives birth to a boy. Thankfully, they name him Daniel. A much more sensible name than Majella, which she has finally finished embroidering onto the sleepsuit. The birth occurs whilst Martina is in work, so she doesn't get dragged along to sit by the maternity ward yet again, looking at leaflets on breastfeeding and birthing positions. She knows that Connie has probably gone into labour when Joey doesn't turn up for his giro. She inwardly smirks. That means he'll try to claim it late on another day, and she likes those conversations best, because she goes into battle already having the upper hand. Now, she's stood looking at a load of what she frankly feels is commercialised crap, bibs and hats and booties with 'special Christmas delivery' and 'born just in time for Christmas' stitched on. Joey is in his element, smiling over the various products and talking about how tiny, tiny, Daniel will fit into them just lovely. Joey loves children. Martina is not as keen. It isn't that she dislikes them, it is more the idea of birth that she can't wrap her head around. And also the fact that she's not entirely convinced that she can have children. She's been married to Joey for three years now, and while originally he spoke of nothing other than babies, he finally settled down and stuck to helping his siblings look after theirs. It's very sweet of him, Martina thinks. He knows she doesn't cope all too well with commitment, and he's grateful that she married him after his divorce with Roxy all those years ago. Nellie likes Martina too, since she got married in a Catholic Church (Father Dooley was less concerned about Joey's divorce when he saw the sum that her then-fiancé willing to pay for the service). Martina thought about having children a couple of years back, and stopped taking her pills for a good few months. And despite engaging in many physical encounters with Joey over that period, she didn't result in a foetus inside her, ready to grow into a child created through the act of love which had taken place. She hadn't told Joey about stopping her pills, and so, when she grew increasingly more disappointed at her lack of pregnancy, she started taking them again. She didn't tell him. She hasn't ever told him. There's no need to. He'd only make pathetic attempts to assure her that he's never really wanted children, and he's happy without. Or even worse, he would take her to see the doctor, and if there's one thing Martina can't stand, it is clinicians. She's been in hospitals too many times in early adulthood to ever want to go near one again, the memories of her brother, unable to sit up, covered in his own vomit and his eyes bloodshot after being rushed there in an ambulance when he was unable to walk into another drinking establishment. And so, Martina smiles at Joey's keenness at the various items on offer, and, in the end, they select a teddy bear holding a blanket, which she takes home to embroider the name Daniel on before they wrap it.

Martina finishes work and walks past the rows of shops on the high street as she makes her way to the bus station. Joey is babysitting Majella so that Adrian and Irenee can do some Christmas shopping. Her eyes glance over the various window displays centred around festive themes. The post office is displaying Christmas cards and notices about last minute deliveries amongst sacks of presents with outlandish labels addressed to Father Christmas upon them. The butcher's has a large picture of a turkey to advertise the various animals on offer to eat that Christmas. Even the charity shop has a nativity scene made of the various odds and ends which people have donated to them. Martina ignores the baby shops; she has no desire to look at products which she will never need to buy. Which reminds her, she needs to go to the pharmacist to pick up her pills. Not that she's taking them, but Joey needs to think she is. She's decided once again to try and see if her body does want to cooperate with Joey's wishes. Martina personally still isn't bothered, she tells herself. But seeing Joey fawning over their nieces and nephews, and being unbearably cheerful when playing the perfect Super Uncle is melting the edges of her heart just a little bit, and she wonders if she is able to get pregnant with him. She tells herself that it would just be to shut him up, she doesn't care either way if she can have children or not. Yet, when she sees a heavily pregnant woman walking along the street towards her, Martina crosses to the other side and refuses to look at the woman's swollen stomach. She blocks it from her mind, gets home, and switches on the television set. The newsreader is expecting a baby, too. Martina switches off, suddenly deciding that she does not need to be up to date with the latest news, after all. She chucks a few more of her pills in the bin so that Joey will never find them, and know what she is doing, or get excited about the possibility of being a father.

On the day before Christmas Eve, the DHSS close for the Festive Season. Martina arrives to work early, and her colleagues arrive soon after. They are fully aware that this will be the busiest day of their year, with a million last minute claims being brought to their attention by the rabble of claimants. Martina doesn't tell her colleagues, but she knows that Joey will be in later on with an outlandish scheme in order to give her some relief from the monotony of the rest of them. Until then, Martina puts her shoulders back and prepares for the onslaught of festive laundry robberies.

"NUMBER 1 PLEASE!"

And so her day continues.

"So you're telling me, that it was yer washing line that were nicked?"

"Yeah, and on washin' day, so everythin' were taken off it, weren't it? Silk shirts an' velvet slippers an' cashmere coats!"

"All that lot on your washing line, was it?"

"Yeah, I'd just done me load o' it!"

"And you hung it out to freeze, I presume, given our recent bouts of sub-zero temperatures which are well known for their excellence at drying washing? Especially ones which would never be washed together – silk and velvet and cashmere is a very interesting load, I must say. Maybe I will try it meself, if I 'ad garments made from silk or velvet or cashmere – NEXT!" Martina watches at the huffy woman stomps out of the building, and then, there is a familiar sent of aftershave, which can only belong to one person. She turns, and smirks, careful to make sure it is her business smirk that appears, not her bedroom smirk.

"Greetings!" He flings his arms wide, and Martina prepares for the outlandish surprise Christmassy speech he will surely give. "You see, sweetheart, I have a problem."

"You, Mister Boswell? A problem? Goodness me, what on earth has occurred which has led to such a great deity as you having a problem?" He laughs and leans forward ever so slightly.

"Well, not me, necessarily, but me-"

"Family?" she interjects. He nods.

"Yes, and as we are all unified in our blood ties, I thought I would pop over to address some concerns which me brother, Adrian, had, about his precious daughter, my niece, Majella."

"Go on, Mister Boswell, but do excuse it if me tear ducts collapse halfway through due to the extremely harrowing nature of this tale." And then he's off, discussing creativity and childhood and Martina finds herself very distracted because she can see just how much he loves children, just what a great father he would be. Her hand rests on her stomach. Her still very much the same as it has always been stomach. Flat. Empty. Childless. She realises he has stopped, and, rather than admit her lack of knowledge as to what he has been rambling about she scowls, and plucks a form off her pile.

"Fill that in. NEXT!"

At the end of a very long working day, the DHSS clerks go out for their Christmas party. They sit sipping glasses of wine in a pub in the centre of town, just away from the rest of the merry office folk from various council departments who are drunkenly dancing across the floor to songs which have never been any good. One of them is looking especially cheerful, and Martina notices that she has drank nothing but water all evening. As the night goes on, the other woman looks more and more agitated, until she eventually addresses her colleagues.

"I just thought this would be the most magical time to tell you all – I'm pregnant! Not far mind, just a couple of months, but still, you'll be managing without me for a while next year!" Martina's insides freeze – why is everybody having children nowadays, it isn't that much of an important thing, is it? Externally, she plasters on a large smile and a high pitched voice and expresses her delight at the other woman for having a uterus which is willing to hold a child, isn't she lucky? Soon after, Martina makes her excuses, and leaves. The walk home is long and silent and brooding. Fortunately, Joey is 'out on a job' so she doesn't have to pretend to be okay while he is there, she can just climb into bed and seethe until he gets home and snuggles against her under the covers. Before all that, she stashes his gift at the back of her wardrobe, hoping that he won't check there (again, he's already rummaged twice) before Christmas Day.

On Christmas Eve, Martina and Joey spend the day collecting the flowers for Nellie and running other last minute errand which cannot be done until the day before Christmas. Whilst Joey is in the bank, Martina spots another token gift which she buys and slips in her handbag. As night falls upon the city, and children everywhere look out at the starry sky, seeing if they can spot Father Christmas, Joey parks the Jag at Formby, and the two exit, walking hand in hand amongst the sand dunes and down onto the beach. It is chilly, and as she shivers, Joey wraps his arms around her tightly, and Martina feels a happy sense of contentment. This, she thinks, this is what she wanted out of life. A loving husband who she can do what she likes, when she likes with. Who will take her for midnight walks along the beach on Christmas Eve. She has to admit that she never thought that Joey Boswell, of all people, would end up being the one to fit the mould which she had created, but he has, and she loves him for it. Martina doesn't tell him that very often, because he could use it against her in an argument, and also she's not very good at expressing sentiments, but she hopes it comes across in the little things she does, the little things which say what she feels: 'you, Joey Boswell, are the bane o' me bloody life, but I would only want you that close to me'. Joey stops about halfway up the beach, and looks at his watch. The tide is out, and all the stars are reflected in it, the North Star shining bright, almost as if Jesus was being born again at that very moment. He stands behind her, and wraps his arms around her waist, and she leans back into him, secure in the knowledge that he will not hurt her.

"Midnight. Merry Christmas, Mrs Boswell," she can feel him grinning into her hair as he calls her that, and, if the situation were any different, she would turn and give him a piece of her mind about the use of that name. However, she is content, and at ease, which is a rare thing for Martina to be, so instead she turns and smiles at him, holding their hands between them.

"Merry Christmas yerself, Joey."

It is only fitting that, mistletoe or no mistletoe, they share a kiss to welcome the festive day into the world.

Joey Boswell is like a child when it is Christmas. At six o'clock in the morning he is diving across the bed, kissing Martina in every place possible to get her into the wide awake club so that they can share the joy together. She opens one eye and takes in his ruffled hair and bright eyes.

"If you hadn't noticed, it is six o bloody clock, and we only got in at two thirty this morning. We ain't due at yer Mam's until ten so that's plenty o' time." But she knows he will remain awake, so she gets out of bed and pulls her dressing gown on, as her husband dashes excitedly into the lounge. Joey has gone to make coffee, which gives her time to put his presents under the tree for when he returns. Her eyes catch the other parcels which must be for her, and she wonders what they could be. Joey returns, and they swap gifts sat on the floor like children. He adores the new leather jacket which she has got him, and spends a good ten minutes stroking it adoringly. He also loves the leather pen pouch, which she informs him is an incentive to keep his sodding musical pens in without subjecting her to their many tunes one more time. Then she unwraps her presents. One is a beautiful fountain pen, and she smiles at him happily. It is sleek and silver and oh she is going to love writing forms using it. The other parcel is squashy, and she opens it to reveal a scarf, some gloves, a hat and a jumper. Confused, she looks up, and Joey is extracting the scarf from the mix and leaning over towards her. He's now wearing his leather jacket, so she assumes he is going to tie it around her neck. However, Joey uses the scarf to blindfold her, much to her surprise. His voice whispers in her ear

"So, Missy Martina, nobody can pull the wool over your eyes, eh?" In that moment she knows that he's caught her, but she won't let him win, so she uses the only weapon in her arsenal that could have any sort of impact given her situation. Knowing he's beside her, she reaches out her hand and trails it down his torso and between his thighs, stretching her legs as she does so, and rolling onto her belly, hands still at work.

"Well, Mister Boswell, now that you have, shall we see what I can do with the wool over my eyes, given it is so warm – maybe things could heat up a little bit?" If only she didn't have the blindfold on she thinks, she would pay to see his reaction to her throaty whispers. She knows she's winning though when he scoops her up and places her on her back on the sofa. As clothes are removed, Martina smirks at how excellent she is at doing this without the use of her sight. In fact, she thinks, the blindfold is adding an extra bonus to what they are doing, which gives her an idea for future exploits with her husband.

By nine o'clock, they're snuggled together on the sofa, sipping tea and basking in the company of one another. Martina is wearing her new jumper, and Joey his new leather jacket, and they're ready to leave to go and see the rest of the Boswells with their Christmas gifts for dinner at Nellie's. Martina snuggles against Joey and closes her eyes slightly, letting the Christmas merriment wash over her, before she has to face the family. It isn't that she dislikes, them, but in large groups they can tend to be quite a handful. Also, Oswald will be there, and while she wouldn't trade him for Joey, she still thinks there's a niceness about him which is wasted on Aveline. At some point, she's fallen asleep, because Joey is waking her up and they're going to the car to drive to Kelsall Street.

They enter the house, and the first thing which registers on Joey's face is shock. Sat at the table with Nellie is a silver fox of a gentleman, smiling at them politely. Martina rubs Joey's arm soothingly. She knows who this man is, and has kept Nellie's secret gentleman from the family. But it looks as if, now Freddie has finally ran away to Ireland with Lilo Lil, Nellie has accepted Derek into her life and is ready to show him off to her children. Soon, the rest of the Boswells arrive, and after each of them overcomes their shock, they exchange presents and settle down to dinner, which is actually a buffet as there is no way that all of them can fit around the one table nowadays. Most people are fawning over little Daniel, who is still very young and newborn like. Martina ends up sat in the kitchen with Derek, who is kind and seems to be taking the whole family in his stride. He looks over at Nellie in the parlour with her latest grandchild.

"She loves you all," Derek comments fondly, turning to Martina. "They all love their family, the Boswells. Your Joey did an excellent job keeping her on track when she could have crumbled due to Freddie." Martina notes how he shows no sign of malice when mentioning Freddie, who, really, is the reason that Nellie wouldn't enter a serious relationship with Derek sooner. She smiles at him.

"They all need someone patient though, who's willing to let them put the family first. Roxy never Joey do that." Derek turns to her, and pats her hand.

"You're a good one for Joey. I don't know him all that well, yet, but I've heard. And you're all he needs. Sometimes, when people have been battered, all they need is a comforting partner. No children, no riches, just comfort. I hope I can be a comforting partner to Nellie." It is almost as if he has read her mind, and it is all so comforting. Joey just needs her, and she needs him. If a child doesn't happen, it doesn't matter. They've got each other. Martina smiles at Derek and looks back towards Nellie. 'He's good for you,' Martina thinks, 'don't lose him, Nellie Boswell.'

Soon, the children are showing off their presents, and Martina is perched firmly in Joey's lap due to a lack of seating for the whole extended Boswell clan. She pulls something from her bag which she bought with Joey yesterday, and leans across to Adrian, who still has a slightly startled look when he realises she is addressing him. Martina smirks.

"Number 25, take this." She bites her lip to stop herself from laughing and can feel Joey doing the same as Adrian opens the children's art set and a look of bewilderment and excitement crosses his face as he turns to look at Majella on Irenee's lap.

"Look, little one! You can start painting with Daddy now!" At least he's happy, Martina thinks. That is what Christmas is about. On the armchair, Nellie is at proudly surveying her family and how well they have all done, and Martina cannot help but think that Derek just completes the picture, perched behind her on the arm of the chair. Martina cannot help but feel a sense of pride that Nellie has finally stood up for herself. Speaking to Derek has made her see the parallels between her relationship with Joey, and the one his mother has with Derek. She is just incredibly thankful to feel wanted, and to feel like she has a place. She spent too many Christmases alone, hearing her brother drinking himself to merriment and her parents argue about where the money had gone for the presents. In the Boswell family, Christmas is a time for family, and for God. The whole family, Derek included, goes to the Christmas Day mass and the sense of unity almost overwhelms Martina.

As they leave, it starts to snow, and Joey makes their excuses and drives them home, careful not to destroy the Jag, before the snow gets too deep. When they reach their home, they spend a while stood outside, watching the snowflakes fall to the ground. Joey turns to look at her.

"Are you okay, not too cold?" Martina grins at his question, the perfect response already on her lips.

"No, thanks, it provides a nice change to the heat of Kelsall Street." Joey laughs and brushes some snow off his new lather jacket.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mister Boswell, besides, in this new jumper, I'm as warm as a herd of Boswells." Joey has no response to that comment, which Martina takes great delight in. This Christmas, she's won the battle of wits between the two of them. Most definitely. She might not be able to give Joey a child, but she won't dwell on it, just as long as their games continue, they're happy. She's happy. And she will definitely celebrate that.

"Joey?"

"Martina?"

"Merry Christmas."

As the snow falls at the end of a very happy Christmas Day, Martina and Joey can be found embracing in the front garden to their home, quite content in their little bubble. Nothing can separate them. They are the best gift to each other.

-finite—

(a/n – so, yes, this is it. Merry Christmas, Rose. I think this turned out okay, though it might be a tad short on actual, you know, Christmassy stuff. Sorry about that. However, you've had minxy Martina, teasing Joey, suave Derek and a whole host of other different scenes in this so I do hope I have done well in creating you the perfect Christmas present giftfic. Here's to next year, and even more awesome Bread fandom exploits!)


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